Curlieu Falls
by Paul J. Willis
Mid-May in the Sierra—
this is when the water knows
to fling itself
from cliffs and ledges,
spray through chartreuse
alder leaves.
Then it curls in granite
channels, licking the moss,
and calms the shade
below the live oak terraces,
the bleeding heart, the nodding
heads of saxifrage.
—Sierra National Forest